


Miasma

by Morpheus626



Series: Lee's Rock/Queentober 2020 [23]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: Assigned band member for this day: JohnSynopsis: Set in 1979. Ronnie is away, and the boys (John, Robert, and Michael) would play...if not for being horribly sick. Not only does that mean no fun, but it means John isn’t making practices, and that means Freddie, Roger, and Brian to the rescue as assistant nursemaids to the Deacons.TW: Vomit and sickness in general, but seriously...detailed discussion of vomit and sick kids in this one. If that squicks you out, then skip this one.
Series: Lee's Rock/Queentober 2020 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950265
Kudos: 10





	Miasma

“They aren’t dead,” Roger chuckled as they approached the front door to John’s house. “Just because Ronnie’s off visiting her mum, and Deaky didn’t show up for practice-” 

“For three days?” Brian interrupted. “He’s been alone with Robert and Michael for three days, and he told us he had babysitters lined up, right? So if something had come up with them, he would have called and told us.” 

“You make a fair point,” Freddie said. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s dead. Maybe he’s just badly hurt.” 

“That isn’t better!” Brian shouted.

“I know, I didn’t say that it was, I just like that thought much better than the thought of our friend being dead!” Freddie shouted back. 

Roger shook his head and knocked at the door as they argued. 

After a moment, it creaked open, and he wished it hadn’t. 

“Hey,” John sniffled. “What are you guys doing here?” 

“Um,” Roger hesitated. “Watching you drift a miasma of illness onto us?” 

“You didn’t have to come here,” John scoffed, then sighed at the sound of a crying toddler. “Hang on, Robert. Daddy’s coming back.” 

“Oh good lord,” Freddie breathed. “Are you all-” 

“Been sick since Ronnie left,” John said. “I’m not so bad, but the kids...” 

He leaned out the front doorway. “I have not changed so many diapers, bedsheets, clothes...if it’s not one end it’s the other I can’t take it anymore!” 

“Okay,” Freddie took a deep, steadying breath. “We’ll help you.” 

“Fred!” Roger hissed. “We’ll all get sick!” 

“We’re going to already, just being this close,” Brian said. “He’s right. If we want Deaky back and practicing...then we need to help face this.” 

“It’s two sick kids,” Freddie said. “How bad can it really get?” 

\---

“Deaky!” 

“I know, I know,” John said, carrying a covered-in-vomit, sobbing Robert out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. “Give me a moment, I’ll get towels.” 

“It’s alright,” Freddie soothed a sniffling Michael, still in his highchair and covered in his brother’s vomit too. “Your brother just isn’t feeling too much better yet.” 

Michael held up his little hands to Freddie, begging to be picked up. 

“Deaky, faster please, with the towels!” Freddie called. “I’m so sorry darling, but I...” 

Michael sobbed. 

“It’s just that this is vintage...” 

Michael’s eyes met his, tears streaming down his face. 

“I’m going to do my best not to sympathy puke on you,” Freddie said, then held his breath and winced as he took Michael into his arms out of the highchair. 

Brian had his mouth covered, looking positively green at the scene in the kitchen.

“Water only,” Roger said in a strangled gasp as John rushed back in, tossed them towels, then rushed back to Robert in the bathroom. “Water only, and no solid food.” 

“They can’t just have water,” Freddie said, breathing heavily through his nose as he used one of the towels to wipe Michael as clean as possible. “But maybe water and applesauce, or rice...my mum used to give us plain rice, if we couldn’t keep anything else down.” 

Brian nodded. 

“Not you too,” Freddie sighed. “Go, the upstairs bathroom should be clean.” 

Brian darted out of the kitchen and upstairs, gagging as he ran. 

“Still glad we stayed to help?” Roger asked. 

“I...” Freddie sighed, handing a slightly more clean Michael to Roger as he tried to clean his clothes, then gave up and pulled off his coat and shirt before taking Michael back. “Put it this way. Since we’re doing this, we’ll probably have John back in the next few days. If we left him alone, it might have been at least a week.” 

Roger nodded. “All the same...I have puke in my shoes.” 

“And for that, I’m sorry,” Freddie said. “But I think I have some in my hair, so let’s call it even. Now, if you can go help Brian, I’ll stay down here and help John with these two.” 

“And in a few days, when we’re all sick with this too?” Roger asked.

“Roger, darling...oh fuck it, I’ll make up a ruddy schedule of who’s to clean vomit off of who, alright?” 

“That works,” Roger chirped, and slipped his shoes and socks off in the kitchen before heading upstairs. 

“Think you can make it to the bathroom without losing what little you’ve kept down?” Freddie asked Michael as he started down the hall, the sounds of a sniffling and struggling John greeting them. 

Michael burped, and whined as he rubbed his face into Freddie’s shoulder. 

“You and your brother are very sweet, make no mistake of that,” Freddie said. “But I am...” 

He shuddered as Michael burped again, and whined. 

“Never having children.” 


End file.
